


follow my lead

by alotofthingsdifferent



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 18:41:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5836513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alotofthingsdifferent/pseuds/alotofthingsdifferent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I, uh,” Latts says, redness spreading up his cheekbones. “Could you -- teach me?” Mike watches the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, and he has to take a deep breath to  control the hammering in his own chest. </p><p>“Teach you,” he says, taking a slow step towards Latts, who’s still wringing his hands. Latts nods, his eyes on Mike as he moves closer, into his space. “You sure that’s what you want?”</p><p>Latts huffs and rolls his eyes, an anxious laugh tumbling from his mouth. “Would I be standing in the middle of your hotel room at midnight if I wasn’t serious?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	follow my lead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thenorthface](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenorthface/gifts).



> This started as a twitter convo and somehow this happened. It's open-ended because I have _ideas_ , so we'll see where it goes.
> 
> Thanks to Kimmie for the beta and my twitter friends for encouraging this nonsense.

Mike’s just fallen into a peaceful doze, his head lolling to the side, when there’s a soft knock at his door. It startles him awake, and for a moment he thinks maybe he imagined it. He closes his eyes again, nuzzles his cheek into his pillow, but the knock comes again, a little sharper this time. 

He huffs an annoyed breath and pushes up on his elbows, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and fumbling for the lamp on the bedside table. He stumbles over a stray shoe on the way to the door and curses under his breath. “This better be really fucking important --”

He stops mid-sentence when the opens the door. 

Latts is standing there in a plain white t-shirt and loose nylon shorts, his arms crossed over his chest. “Hey,” he says softly, and Mike raises an eyebrow, taking a step back in invitation.

Latts has been doing this a lot lately, though this is the first time he’s woken Mike up in the middle of the night. First it was to ask him what it’s like to date a guy -- Mike’s out to the team, he’s never kept it a secret from the guys he plays with. The question took him by surprise, and the fact that Latts asked him under his breath, when they were four beers in at a post-win celebration, made Mike think it wasn’t really something Latts had talked about with anyone else.

Latts had shrugged nonchalantly, taking a long pull from his beer. “Not much different than dating a chick, kid. Just -- different equipment,” Mike told him, and the way Latts’ cheeks flushed, the tips of his ears going pink, was pretty telling. 

After that, it was little questions dropped into their conversation like subtle hints that weren’t as subtle as Latts probably thought. He’d slip into the seat next to Mike on the plane, wait until the cabin lights went dim, and lean in close. “How did you know?” he asked, and “Was it hard when you came out?”

Mike was patient, because the kid was so earnest with his questions, like he really needed to know the answers. But when the line of questioning went from “How can you tell if a guy’s into you?” to “I’ve never kissed a guy, what’s it like?” Mike’s interest piqued. 

“Listen, Latts,” Mike says when the door clicks shut. “If you’re here to ask me about blowjobs again, I can’t --”

“No,” Latts says, shaking his head. “No, that’s not -- I mean, it _is_ , I just --”

There’s a lovely blush blooming over the bridge of Latts’ nose, and he’s wringing his hands in the hem of his shirt 

“There’s a guy,” he goes on, and Mike watches him patiently. Latts blows out a breath and runs both hands through his hair. “There’s a guy, and I wanna -- I mean, I _really_ wanna -- but I’m, uh. I’m not. Experienced? With guys,” he adds quickly, a nervous laugh following. “I have plenty of experience otherwise.”

Mike quirks a smile and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “So what are you trying to ask me here?” he says, his eyes dropping to the way Latts’ is chewing on his lower lip. Latts’ shoulders are broad, and his arms are fucking amazing, and his mouth -- well, let’s just say all the talk of blow jobs has put a few filthy thoughts in Mike’s head. 

“I, uh,” Latts says, redness spreading up his cheekbones. “Could you -- teach me?” Mike watches the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, and he has to take a deep breath to control the hammering in his own chest. 

“Teach you,” he says, taking a slow step towards Latts, who’s still wringing his hands. Latts nods, his eyes on Mike as he moves closer, into his space. “You sure that’s what you want?”

Latts huffs and rolls his eyes, an anxious laugh tumbling from his mouth. “Would I be standing in the middle of your hotel room at midnight if I wasn’t serious?” 

Latts is taller than him, just by a little, and when Mike gets a warm hand on the back of his neck, his thumb stroking gently along his hairline, Latts goes easily, ducking in and letting Mike bring their mouths together. It’s just a brush of lips at first -- Latts is nervous, Mike can tell by the way his hands are still clenched between them -- but when Mike tilts his head, sucks Latts’ lower lip into his mouth, Latts lets out a breathy sigh and relaxes, one hand finding its way to Mike’s hip.

“There y’go,” Mike coaxes, cupping Latts’ face in both hands so he can kiss him harder. “Just go with it, see?” Latts whimpers when Mike licks at the seam of his mouth, and after that, it’s easy. Latts is warm and eager under Mike’s hands, clutching at Mike’s hips and pulling him closer. Mike winds his arms around Latts’ neck and threads the fingers of one hand through the thick mess of hair at the back of Latts’ head. 

Latts breaks away with a wet smack of their lips, his eyes wide and dark. His breath is coming in short little pants, and Mike has to admit that it’s really, really hot. “You good?” Mike asks, keeping his distance, letting Latts lead the way. Latts nods, swallows, and glances over his shoulder towards the bed. 

Mike raises an eyebrow and chuckles softly, and when Latts’ face falls, he steps back in with a shake of his head, slipping his hand under the hem of Latts’ shirt to brush his fingertips over the jut of his hip. “I wasn’t saying no,” he says quietly, nosing at Latts’ jaw. He can feel the scrape of his own beard against Latts’ neck and figures it’s probably what’s causing the sharp intake of breath he just heard. 

He presses his lips to Latts’ neck, feels him swallow, and nips lightly at his earlobe, whispering, “I’ll teach you whatever you wanna know.”

Latts lets out a low groan, his forehead dropping to Mike’s shoulder. He laughs softly, clutching at Mike’s t-shirt where it hangs loosely around his torso, and his breath tickles the shell of Mike’s ear. “Maybe, uh,” he says into Mike’s neck. “Can I -- jerk you off?”

Mike gets a hand up Latts’ shirt and splays his fingers over his chest. He can feel Latts’ heart racing under his hand, a steady thump-thump-thump that makes Mike’s own blood start pumping harder. His skin is hot and smooth under Mike’s hand, and he suddenly can’t wait to get his mouth on it. “Fuck, kid, _yeah_ ,” he says, giving Latts the lightest of shoves toward the bed.

Latts takes a few steps backward, and they stumble a little before they get there, but once they do, once Latts is stretched out next to him on the bed, one leg tucked between Mike’s thighs and his shirt rucked up around his abs, Mike can’t believe he didn’t think of this himself.

(Well, that’s a lie. He’d thought of it, all right -- he was only human, after all, and there was only so much of Latts licking his lips while Mike told him about licking someone’s dick that he could take -- he just hadn’t thought to bring it up to Latts.) 

They kiss for so long that Mike’s lips start to tingle, so he pulls back a little, still puckering his lips against Latts’ every few seconds while he whispers, “Not that this isn’t great, because it is, but --”

He rolls his hips slowly, doesn’t want to freak Latts out, but Latts’ mouth drops open and his eyes flutter closed, and the barely audible “yeah” that Mike hears is all the encouragement he needs. He touches Latts’ wrist where it’s resting on his hip, circles it in a loose grip and tugs, guiding Latts’ hand between his legs. 

He tilts his head back and smiles, letting out a breathy laugh that trails off to a moan when Latts drags his fingertips over the head of Mike’s dick through his boxers. “Yeah, Latts, that’s it, just -- _fuck_ , that’s good, that’s nice.” 

Latts is blushing beautifully, staring wide-eyed and open-mouth at his hand on Mike’s cock. It makes Mike’s shaft jerk under Latts’ palm, and Latts sucks in a breath, swiping his tongue over his lower lip. 

“Can I --” Latts starts, and tucks his fingers into the waistband of Mike’s boxers. 

“Yeah, babe, go on, whatever you want,” Mike mumbles, and lifts his hips so Latts can strip him down. He’s already shirtless, and when his boxers are on the floor, Latts props himself up on one elbow, his eyes roaming MIke’s body like he’s never seen anything like it. Mike opens his mouth to tease him, but Latts gets a big hand on his chest, drags his fingers downward, through the soft hair on Mike’s chest, over the trail of coarse curls leading down to his dick. He stops then, bites his lower lip, and for a brief moment, Mike thinks he’s having second thoughts. “Hey, you don’t have to --”

His words get caught in his throat when Latts wraps a hand around him, hot and dry and just this side of too tight. “I want to,” Latts says, quiet, and thumbs the wet head of Mike’s dick. “Just -- can you -- I wanna know what you like. Tell me what you like.”

Mike rocks his hips a little, his dick sliding in and out of Latts’ grip. “My bag’s on the floor,” he says, and jesus, the kid’s barely touched him and his voice is already wrecked. “Grab the lotion.” Latts scrambles to the foot of the bed and leans over, his shorts taut over his perfect ass, and shit, Mike is not going to survive this. 

Latts holds the bottle up triumphantly, a shy grin on his face, and Mike nods at him once. “Lose the shirt,” he says, and then, after a pause, “Shorts too. If you’re cool with it.”

Latts doesn’t even hesitate, and Mike watches him strip, taking the time to appreciate the way Latts’ abs ripple when he strips out of his shirt, the strong line of his thighs when he kicks his shorts to the floor. His dick juts out from between his legs, flushed and shiny at the tip, and Mike’s fingers itch to reach out and touch. 

“Now c’mere,” Mike says, rolling onto his side and patting the spot next to him. Latts slides in easily, and Mike brushes his knuckles over Latts’ cheekbone, leaning in to kiss the spot his fingers touched. “Gonna make it good for both of us, ok?”

Latts lets out a shaky breath and nods, looking at Mike with eyes that say _I trust you_ and _I want this so bad_ all at once. He squeezes a bit of lotion into Latts’ hand and grabs his wrist again, but Latts doesn’t need any coaxing this time. He gets his hand on Mike’s dick and strokes him slowly, looser this time, like he’s afraid he’s going to break Mike. 

“C’mon, Latts, give it to me harder,” Mike urges. “Tighten your fist.” Latts does, then jerks Mike once, twice, and Mike hisses through his teeth. It’s good, it’s _so_ good, and he wants Latts to know what a fucking stellar job he’s doing. “Yeah, babe, that’s good, just like that, now twist your wrist a little, just --”

He groans when Latts does exactly what he’s told, fucks into Latts’ fist and buries his face in his neck, biting gently at the tendon. Latts loses his rhythm then, and Mike smiles into his skin. “You like that, hmm?”

“Yeah,” Lat breathes, and Mike does it again, then flattens his tongue over the mark he left with his teeth. It goes on like that for awhile, Latts making small, breathy moans while he jerks Mike off, and he jumps when Mike slides his palm onto his hip, down over the curve of his ass. He digs his fingers in, pulls him closer, until they’re touching from head to toe, Latts’ hand going loose around his cock, his breath hot on Mike’s shoulder. 

When Mike rolls his hips again, Latts’ hand falls between them, and Mike’s cock is slick against Latts’ where they’re pressed together. “Good?” Mike whispers, and Latts nods frantically. Mike squeezes his ass again, rocks forward sharply, and lets out a startled gasp when Latts shudders, coming so hard between them that Mike feels it splatter on his neck. 

“Oh my god,” Latts groans, panting into Mike’s neck. “Oh my god, I’m so --”

“Shut up,” Mike growls, and reaches between them to get a hand on his own dick, jerking it fast and hard, the lotion mixed with Latts’ come making it hot and slick and perfect. He stiffens when his own orgasm hits him, spilling over Latts’ stomach, over his thighs and his softening dick. He keeps a tight grip on Latts’ hip, doesn’t let him slip away, until their breathing has finally evened out and there’s come drying all over both of them.

“Latts,” Mike says, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to Latts’ shoulder.

“I’m so fucking embarrassed,” Latts grumbles from where his face is still buried in Mike’s neck. 

“Please don’t be,” Mike says softly, kissing along Latts’ jaw. “That was the hottest thing that’s happened to me in a really long time.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Latts says, but he pulls back a little, and Mike doesn’t miss the hint of a smile on his face before he leans in to kiss it away. 

“I’m really not,” Mike says, “but would it make you feel better if I told you we could work on it?”

Latts arches an eyebrow at him, questioning. “What do you mean?”

Mike shrugs casually and rolls over onto his back. “You’ve still got a lot to learn, kid,” he teases, his mouth curving up into a grin. “If you think I’m a good teacher, that is.”

He guesses Latts leaning in to kiss him is a yes.


End file.
